Pikmin belongs to Nintendo.
31 Days since Impact
I failed my mission. Whether it was my poor leadership or the cruel hand of fate, I was unable to gather the parts that I needed to fly my ship home. I attempted the flight anyway, but that... went about as well as expected.
The Dolphin is no more. I doubt that it can be salvaged. This time, I'm truly stranded.
I suppose I should be grateful for the quick work of the Pikmin. Had they not processed my body in the red Onion, I wouldn't be here to observe the results of my failure. I haven't yet died to the oxygen in the atmosphere, so my assumption is that I am able to breathe it.
I have little doubt that I'm becoming a Pikmin myself - I am planted in the ground with a sprout sticking from the top of my head, after all. The Pikmin seem just as obedient as ever, but there's something more there now. In fact, I'm only able to record my thoughts thanks to a flowered red Pikmin who is acting as my scribe. I don't need any conscious effort to communicate my thoughts to it, although my leaf has been glowing a different color each time the wind has blown it into my field of view.
The other Pikmin are keeping their distance for now. Including the scribe, there are three of each type. I can't help but wonder if they will board their Onions at the end of the day without my instruction. For that matter, will the bulborbs discover me when night falls? I do stick out much farther than most Pikmin.
It occurs to me that I may not be the original Captain Olimar anymore. Perhaps I am simply another Pikmin, retaining the memories of the late Olimar and believing myself into the role.
I won't continue that train of thought. I need to keep a cool head if I ever want to get home... as unlikely as that notion seems right now.
My feet have been tingling for a while now, but I only really noticed it when it climbed to my ankles. I think it signifies my shift into a complete Pikmin. Maybe when it travels to my brain, it'll overtake me. I can only hope that isn't the case.
It's still late morning, and the lack of activity from the Pikmin disturbs me. Did they really just sit around their Onions, doing nothing for the entire day, before I landed here? Or did they turn to another entity for guidance? More and more daily, these creatures fascinate me.
The feeling of 'more' that I described earlier has been growing. I keep getting this feeling, a sixth sense that brings me different emotions throughout the day. Earlier it made me feel panicked and upset, but over the hours it's calmed into a sort of guarded relaxation. Whether it's a form of mind control or merely how the Pikmin communicate, I can't help but feel more excited to test it than I am worried about what it means for me.
After all, there's no turning back now.
The tingling feeling has climbed to my knees over the past few hours. I have attempted several times to leave my position in the ground, but my limbs refused to move each and every time. All I can do for now is wait for fate to decide what to do with me.
I realise that my entries may be getting repetitive, but I have nothing else to do while I'm trapped like this. My growing boredom is quickly becoming my biggest concern, never mind the threat of death looming over me. I'm unable to even sleep the hours away thanks to the annoying tingling.
My sixth sense has grown into three separate entities. Surprisingly enough, it seems that the Onions have a consciousness of their own. This once more calls into question the nature of the Pikmin - do they act as servants? Limbs? How intelligent are they? For that matter, how intelligent are the Onions? It seems I will find out soon enough.
I have been practising moving my stalk for a while, and I can now bend it into my field of view at will. It is still topped with a leaf; I suppose I will mature much more slowly than an average Pikmin.
As the night draws near, I worry for my safety. I know that other planted Pikmin survive the night with no repercussions, but my head is visible to all that care to look. The Onions are sending calming emotions my way, so they clearly aren't as concerned. Instead of fearing the unknown, I have decided to look forward to a chance to observe the nocturnal creatures in a safe environment.
My scribe Pikmin will likely leave in the red Onion come nightfall, so I will be unable to update my status until the morning. Oddly enough, I don't feel the telltale fatigue that usually signifies the end of the day. That simply means that I will be able to gather more information during the night.
Sunset is approaching fast, so I will end my updates here and send my scribe to hide my diary. My first instinct was to use a ten-pellet, but I realise the folly of using a food source as a hiding spot. That patch of grass in the distance looks like a better place - from memory, only herbivores collect nectar from this source.
This isn't replacing Collider, it's just a side-fic to help boost my writing process; I have admittedly run into a snag on Collider, less a writer's block and more like a writer's snare that I need to chew my way out of, and I figured in the meantime this would help keep me in the mood.
Thos takes place in the bad ending of Pikmin 1 where (spoilers) Olimar's corpse is fed into the red Onion and an Olimar-seed pops out of the top, complete with a black sprout. This is his diary as he attempts to integrate into the Pikmin colony and figures out what happens next.
So yeah, a weird plot bunny for a weird series with a weird theme of transformation... that's basically my calling card by now.
Next time, Day 2. I'm not sure if I'll continue the 1 day per chapter thing because once Olimar gets free the days will probably get much longer, but for now that's the plan.
I should also point out that I haven't yet finished Pikmin 2 or started Pikmin 3, so blame inconsistencies on that fact. Otherwise this is identical to canon except Olimar is a terrible leader who couldn't complete the easiest game in the franchise (from what I've heard).